


Unplanned Break

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Series: Kink Alphabet [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deputy Derek Hale, Derek in Uniform, M/M, Phone Sex, Sex Toys, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 05:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10529526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: Derek is at his desk in the station when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He knows before he checks it that it's a text from Stiles, because everyone else knows and respects that Derek isn't supposed to be texting or calling anyone on his personal  phone. Especially not while Stiles' father has a clear view of Derek's desk, and would know exactly why Derek isn't focused on his work. He risks opening the message anyway, and miraculously manages to not drop it or groan in frustration when he reads the text."What are you wearing?"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reaping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reaping/gifts).



> There was a discussion on writing porn, then an idea for sprints to practice. And then... this. 
> 
> Y'all can thank Jenn ([Reaping](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Reaping/pseuds/Reaping))

_So, what are you wearing?_   
**Stiles, no.**   
_What?_   
**I’m at work. I’m not going to sext.**   
_Who said anything about sexting?_   
**Your father is glaring at me just for texting.** ****  
_He is not._   
**I’d send a photo but then he’d definitely kill me.**   
_You could send a pic of what’s under the desk._   
**My shoes?** ****  
_No. Want to see what’s under my desk?_   
**Probably dust, you didn’t use that desk in months.** ****  
_Rude. And well…_   
_[image]_   
**Stiles.** ****  
_Derek._   
**Fuck. Why are you at the desk. Why are you naked at the desk?** ****  
_Because I was warm. And I was looking up porn. And I was thinking…_   
**That’s not safe.** ****  
_Which part?_   
**You thinking.** ****  
_Well, I was thinking that the desk is just the right height to sit on with you in front of me and my legs around your waist._   
_Naked._   
_In case that wasn’t obvious._   
**It was.** ****  
**You’re lucky I managed to sneak out on a break.** ****  
_Oh. Good. Because…_   
_[image]_ _  
The desk is definitely nice and sturdy. We should test it when you get home. Should I be waiting for you like this?_

“Stiles,” Derek breathes out into his phone when Stiles picks up. “You’re killing me here. This is not the place.”

“So, what are you wearing?” Stiles asks, and Derek chokes out a strangled laugh.

“You know what I’m wearing, you saw me leave this morning,” he says, sliding into the Camaro that’s parked behind the station. “You also knew that I was at work, where I have colleagues _and your father is my boss_.”

“So? Are you having issues with keeping a poker face?” Stiles chuckles.

“After the second photo? Yes, a little.”

“What if I told you that I’m not on the desk anymore?”

“Okay?”

“It’s a nice height to be bent over too, just so you know,” Stiles says, and Derek hears the way his breath catches. “Good angle. For… things.”

“Things?”

“I should’ve figured this position was good for angles,” Stiles says, and he gasps. “And for reaching back to get a plug in.”

“Stiles,” Derek manages to get out, his free hand already on the buckle of his belt. “Fuck. Which one?”

“The… the one with the remote.”

“Shit. Now I really wish I wasn’t at work,” Derek says, his hand already sliding into his pants and right under his boxers.

“Remember how I added a thing to your phone?” Stiles asks, and Derek can hear the amusement that’s mixed with a little gasp. “Put me on speaker, check it out.”

Derek frowns and stops his hand, but he does as Stiles says, and finds the new app. Once he taps the innocent-looking icon, the app opens to a simple screen with buttons that he’s familiar with from the plug’s regular remote.

“Stiles,” he grits out through his teeth, and his dick fills to full hardness.

“C’mon,” Stiles says simply, and Derek hits one of the buttons, the one he knows will make the plug vibrate on the lowest and simplest setting, just a steady buzz.

He can’t hear it through the phone line, but he _can_ hear Stiles’ satisfied hum. It only lasts a moment before he hears an impatient huff that makes him smirk as he palms his own dick, his hand still under the boxers.

“Derek, c’mon, your break’s not that long,” Stiles says, and Derek pulls his dick out, wrapping his hand around it.

He hits the speed button on the app as he begins to stroke himself, and he winces a little at the friction of his dry hand. There’s lube in the glove compartment, he knows because he tossed it in there a few days earlier, but it seems like too much hassle. Instead, he shifts his hand until his palm slides over the drops of precum, and when he strokes back down, it’s slick and a lot more comfortable.

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice sounds a little more rough. “Are you…”

“Hard, not that it should be surprising,” Derek breathes out, his mind on the mental image of Stiles bent over the desk.

“Hmmm… good, wanna hear you.”

Derek’s lips curl into a smirk as he taps one of the other buttons, and listens for the hitch in Stiles’ breathing when the plug’s vibration changes.

“Fuck,” Stiles lets out, and Derek hears more background sounds.

“Hands off,” he says, and Stiles whimpers, but the sounds stop. “Don’t want to rush things.”

“I do, very much. Want to rush things, I mean. I’ve been hard since you left the house. Wanna come, Der.”

“Okay,” Derek allows, and he turns up the vibrations again. “Just the plug though.”

Stiles whimpers, but he also hums in agreement.

“Don’t touch your dick, Stiles,” Derek says firmly, his hand speeding up its strokes.

“Can I…” Stiles starts, and he gasps when Derek changes the setting again, this time to a vibration that goes from subtle to fast and strong. “Can I fuck myself with the plug?”

“Yeah,” Derek replies.

He times his strokes to the slick sounds that follow, the familiar noise of the plug -- nicely slicked up, from what he can hear -- sliding in and out of Stiles’ ass. He wouldn’t hear it if he wasn’t a werewolf, and he thanks nature for the fact that he can. His fingers tighten as he strokes faster when Stiles speeds up his movements, and he puts down the phone for a second to grab a tissue from the center console.

“‘M close,” he says.

“Same,” Stiles responds. “Faster?”

Derek taps the app again, this time hitting the ‘max’ button, because he can feel his balls tighten.

“Fuck, Der, ‘m gonna…”

When Stiles’ breathing stops for a second, and then a gasp echoes from the phone’s speaker, Derek’s dick twitches in his hand and his hips jerk up as he comes, his hand stilling. He strokes himself a few more times as he catches his come into the tissue, and then he strains his hearing to listen to Stiles’ shaky breathing. There are no more sounds of the plug moving, and Derek smiles at the image of Stiles slumped over the desk, come dripping from its side.

“Hey Stiles,” Derek says when he’s caught his breath, and when he can hear Stiles moving again.

“Yeah?” Stiles sounds tired, and sluggish like he usually does after an orgasm.

“Leave the plug in,” Derek tells him. “I’m gonna fuck you when I get home.”

“In the uniform?” Stiles asks, trying for innocent and missing it by a mile.

“Yup,” Derek tells him, and he closes the app before he takes Stiles off speaker. “Don’t bother getting dressed either.”

He ends the call on the sound of Stiles’ weak and unconvincing protest.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my sterek fic tumblr](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/)


End file.
